


Johnny's Pussy Emergency

by olive_greets



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Crushes, M/M, Mentioned NCT Ensemble, Pets, Rekindled Friendship, friends to ???, late night adventures, the pussy in question is an actual cat, wholesome shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive_greets/pseuds/olive_greets
Summary: Ten helps Johnny with his late-night pussy emergency. Mild chaos ensues.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	Johnny's Pussy Emergency

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the title, it was either that or "the Great Cat Caper," and I figured that "Johnny's Pussy Emergency" is a bit punchier.
> 
> Will I ever stop writing Johnten? Absolutely not. 
> 
> Anywayz, this was the easily the most fun I've ever had writing a fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

_Bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz._

Ten pulls the blanket over his head and burrows his face deeper in the pillow, ignoring the puddle of drool that soaks into his cheek.

_Bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz._

He tries to force himself back to sleep, desperate to see the ending of a very erotic dream he had been having involving Glenn from the Walking Dead and the buff dragon from Ring Fit Adventure.

_Bzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzz_.

“What the fuck,” he whines, willing the sound to go away. _Bzzzzzzzzzzzz_. “Okay, okay, okay, jeez,” he complains to his pillow, then reaches onto his nightstand and fumbles around for his phone, knocking over his water bottle in the process. He tilts just enough for one eye to peer blearily at the phone. The screen is completely out of focus, and the brightness hurts his eye, so he holds it farther from his face. Still a blurry mess. He grumbles again, then sits up and grabs his glasses out of a drawer, perching them on his nose and looking at the phone again, which still vibrates insistently in his hand.

_Call from: Johnny_ 🖤

Ten’s heart skips a beat. He quickly answers the call, nearly dropping his phone in the process, holding it up to his ear and trying to control his breathing. “What do you want, Suh,” he grumbles, trying to sound more annoyed than he is. “It’s –” he looks at the alarm clock on nightstand. “It’s 2:37 am, this better be good.”

Johnny’s voice comes through, deep as ever, crackling slightly from the phone static. “Hi Ten, sorry for bothering you. Were you sleeping?”

Ten rolls his eyes. Johnny never fails to be polite – he must have been a debutante in his past life – and it would annoy the crap out of him if it weren’t so goddamn charming. “No, Johnny, I was just sitting all night by the phone, waiting for your call,” he says, in a poor facsimile of a Marilyn Monroe impression. “I do so love our late-night chats.”

“So, you were asleep. I’m really sorry,” Johnny says, and to his credit, he does sound genuinely sorry. He pauses, and Ten can almost hear the cogs spinning in his brain. “Um … I know it’s late, I’m really sorry again, but I’m having kind of an … emergency.”

Now Ten is fully awake, his mind racing through every horrible situation he could imagine Johnny in. Earthquake? No, he would have felt it too. Robbery? He would never call Ten for that, he has much stronger friends (although Ten likes to think that, despite his diminutive size, he is still the most intimidating of all Johnny’s friends). Could it be … a sex emergency? No, that would be stupid. He would never call Ten for that.

“Okay …” Ten prompts, when Johnny doesn’t immediately elaborate.

“Right, uh … well, you know how I’ve been watching Taeyong’s pets while he’s been out of town?” Ten does not know that, but he plays along anyway.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he’s got a whole zoo over here. Fish, a big-ass lizard, two tortoises, and four cats. Wait, five cats. Hold on … no, four cats.” Johnny clears his throat. “So, I’ve been watching his pets for the past three days, and everything has been going fine, just fine. But, uh, well, for some reason, the cats having been going a little – a little crazy tonight, like just chasing each other around the house and scratching each other and me and trying to eat the fish out of the fish tank. I can’t get them to calm down, I even tried bribing them with human food, but Taeyong comes home tomorrow, and he’ll genuinely kill me if anything happens to his animals. Well, he would probably just have Doyoung kill me, which is worse.”

Ten bites back a laugh as he imagines Johnny running around Taeyong’s house, chasing four crazed cats while armed with nothing but a handful of French fries. Then, he shudders as he imagines Taeyong’s terrifying boyfriend strangling Johnny in his sleep.

Johnny continues. “You’re good with animals, right? Like, you like cats and stuff.” Ten lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “I didn’t know who else to call. I really didn’t want to bother you, I figured you’d be asleep or busy, but I wouldn’t call you if I didn’t really need your help.”

“Busy? Why would I be busy at two in the morning on a Sunday?” Ten mutters, trying to deflect from the maddening swell of pride he feels when Johnny says _I didn’t know who else to call_.

“Well – I don’t know, you might have been busy with Kun, or something,” Johnny finishes lamely, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

“Kun? Oh yeah, we broke up three months ago,” Ten says, a weird feeling settling into his stomach at hearing his ex-boyfriend’s name come out of Johnny’s mouth. “He moved to Scotland to study music.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I mean, cool about the Scotland thing, not about – I’m so sorry,” Johnny says. “I didn’t know. I guess we don’t keep in as good contact as we used to.”

“No,” Ten agrees, and a weighted silence grows over the phone line.

Eventually, Johnny speaks up again. “Anyway, I know it’s kind of far to Taeyong’s house, so I can come pick you up in my car, if you want.”

“I never said yes,” Ten says, though he is already climbing out of bed and searching around the dark room for his pants.

And, almost like Johnny can see into his soul, and also into his bedroom, responds, “oh, but you will say yes. You are powerless to resists my charms, Ten Lee.” Ten rolls his eyes – he has got to stop doing that, they might get stuck – and smiles in spite of himself. Johnny is right, of course. Johnny could call Ten’s mom ugly to her face and Ten would probably just bat his eyelashes and thank him for his honesty.

“Fine. But if you’re not here in ten minutes I’m going back to sleep and blocking your number,” Ten says, trying not to trip as he pulls on his track pants with one hand.

“Dude, you’re the best, seriously.”

“I know.”

“Thanks so much, for real. I can be there in five.”

* * *

Exactly seven minutes later, Johnny’s car pulls into Ten’s driveway. He flashes his headlights once, and Ten rises from his spot on the front steps to jog over to the car.

As soon as he climbs into the front seat and pulls the door closed – carefully, so as not to wake his parents – Johnny peels out of the driveway and down the dark suburban street. Ten clutches onto the door handle for dear life as Johnny grips the wheel and careens through a stop sign, entirely forgoing the use of his turn signals.

“Johnny!” Ten sputters, heart pounding out of his chest as Johnny swerves to avoid a fallen tree branch. “Jesus H. Christ, slow down, what the hell!” Johnny casts a glance in his direction, as though seeing Ten there for the first time. His face falls when he sees Ten curled up in the seat, holding his knees to keep them from hitting the glove compartment.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” Johnny says, and he actually does slow down. He looks back at Ten. “Sorry, things kind of got out of hand after I got off the phone with you. The lizard got involved, and it was a whole thing. I’m genuinely convinced that it’ll be a bloodbath if I leave the animals alone for too long.”

“It’s cool,” Ten says breathlessly, trying to control his wheezing. “Just – I can’t help you if we’re both dead, so take it easy.”

“Good point,” Johnny says, and he smiles for the first time. Ten is thankful for the darkness, because it hides the blush that creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks.

Screw that smile.

They don’t talk much during the ride over, which gives Ten a chance to check Johnny out. Thankful again for the darkness, Ten sneaks surreptitious glances at Johnny whenever he is sure Johnny is concentrated on the road or something in his rearview mirror. Even in the low light of the car, Johnny looks good. His hair is bleached blonde, which is new, and it suits him annoyingly well. His t-shirt hugs the muscles of his pecs and biceps, which flex every time he turns the wheel.

Ten honestly can’t remember the last time he spent this much time alone with Johnny. When they were in middle school – back when they were still next-door neighbors, before Ten’s family moved into a bigger house across town – they would walk to and from school together every day. In high school, their time together was usually spent in their larger group of mutual friends; Johnny was always friendly to him, but it was mostly in passing, leaving Ten to admire Johnny from afar. Now that they are both off at college during the year, they rarely keep in touch. Most of their contact involves Johnny occasionally replying to Ten’s Instagram stories with smiley-face-tongue-out or winking-face emojis, which Ten refuses to spend the brain power trying to decipher the meaning of.

Still lost in his own thoughts, which have begun teetering dangerously close to angst territory, Ten doesn’t notice that they have pulled into Taeyong’s driveway until Johnny pokes him in the arm.

“We’re here. Brace yourself for chaos,” Johnny says, winking at him. Ten’s stomach flips over, and he is silently furious that Johnny still has this effect on him.

“I can handle it,” he says, then hops out of the car and follows Johnny to the front door. Johnny turns the key in the lock then pauses, cupping his ear against the door. Ten, curious, follows suit. He doesn’t hear anything, though, and looks over at Johnny. “You think they’re all dead?” he says.

Johnny shudders. “Dude, don’t even joke about that. One time, I called Taeyong’s lizard creepy, and he didn’t talk to me for a week. For my sake, you’d better hope they’re still alive.”

With that, Johnny carefully turns the doorknob and eases the door open, reaching in with his arm to turn on the lights before sneaking inside, Mission Impossible-style. Ten pads in after him, carelessly closing the door behind him.

Taeyong’s family’s house looks exactly as it did the last time Ten was here, for Taeyong’s deep-sea themed eleventh birthday party. Every surface is covered with animal paraphernalia, from elaborate cat-scratch towers to hamster tubes lining the walls to piles of hay for the chickens that they let sleep inside the house during the winter. A massive fish tank sits against the far wall, balanced precariously on a TV stand that is much too small for it. The original color of the couch is barely visible under the thick layer of multicolored cat hair that coats it.

Ten scrunches his nose. “God, this place is gross,” he mutters to himself, kicking a feather off his shoe.

Johnny doesn’t seem to hear him, instead peering intently around the room. “That’s odd,” he says, bending down to look under the dining room table. “The cats were going insane when I left, where did they go?”

Ten follows Johnny around the room, stepping over a squeaky-toy and a snakeskin. “Could they be upstairs? Or outside, maybe?”

“No,” Johnny insists, as he walks into the kitchen and looks on top of the fridge. “Taeyong said that, under no circumstances, are the cats ever allowed outside. This place is sealed, they couldn’t have escaped. Oh!” He turns and looks at Ten, his eyes wide. “The basement! Taeyong said they sometimes like to hang out in the basement to mate. Let’s check there.”

“To _what?_ ” Ten spits out, disgusted.

“Well, not _mate_ mate, all the male cats are neutered,” Johnny says, matter of fact. “Just to, you know, hump each other, or give each other sensual tongue baths, or whatever it is cats like to do.” Johnny laughs at the look on Ten’s face. 

“Let’s just look in the basement. Unless you want to split up.”

“Um, no thanks,” Ten says, appalled at the thought of walking around this glorified barn by himself. “Basement it is.”

He follows Johnny through the kitchen to a crayon-drawing-covered door at the end of the hallway. Johnny turns to him. “Ready?”

“No.”

Johnny pulls his phone from his back pocket, turns on the flashlight, and opens the door. Immediately, they are hit with a wave of musty, funky-smelling air. Ten swallows down a retch. “Taeyong’s parents better be paying you in diamonds to be staying here.”

Johnny laughs. “If I tell you how much I’m being paid, you’d probably yell at me. So, let’s just keep that between me and the bank of Mr. and Mrs. Lee.”

Johnny squares his shoulders, then begins the long, dark climb down the stairs to the basement. His phone flashlight casts long, shifting shadows, and mostly serves to illuminate the dust clouds that swirl around them. Ten holds his breath as best he can. The wooden stairs creak under their every step.

A sudden yowl cuts through the silence, causing Ten to jump and clutch instinctively onto Johnny’s shoulders. Johnny stumbles on the step below him and grabs the banister for support.

“I knew it!” Johnny whispers triumphantly, looking back at Ten. Ten, heart still pounding, maintains his grip on Johnny’s shoulders, which feel reassuringly strong beneath his fingers. He follows Johnny the rest of the way down the steps, stepping carefully to avoid any loose boards.

When they get to the bottom, Johnny sweeps his phone flashlight around the room, over the packed-dirt floor and the stacks of dusty cardboard boxes and old furniture. The shadows cast by Johnny’s flashlight are oblong and creepy, and an ominous humming sound comes from the pipes on the ceiling. Ten reluctantly releases his grip from Johnny’s shoulders, only to clutch onto his arm a moment later when a pipe above them lets out a loud clang.

“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Johnny teases, looking down at Ten with a playful smile. “Remember when we used to watch horror movies together? You used to laugh at me when I got scared.” Ten sticks out his tongue and tightens his grip on Johnny’s arm. _Wow_ , his biceps really are massive: even with both of Ten’s hands wrapped around the circumference of his arm, his fingertips don’t even come close to touching … _okay, not the time, Ten_ , he thinks to himself, interrupting his own train of thought, and pushes his thirsty musings to the side.

Johnny leads them around the dark basement, stepping quietly between the boxes and furniture and scanning every corner. Suddenly, he stops short, causing Ten to collide with his back.

“There,” he whispers. Ten follows his line of sight towards a large stack of boxes, on top of which four sets of glowing, yellow eyes reflect the light of Johnny’s flashlight. “What do we do now?” Johnny whispers, not taking his eyes off the cats.

“How should I know?” Ten whispers back. Johnny looks down at him and frowns.

“What – Ten, this was the whole point of me getting you over here, to help me wrangle the cats! I thought you would know what to do!”

“I thought you just needed me to help you calm them down, not to capture and subdue them!” Ten returns, trying his best to keep his voice low. As if on cue, one of the cats hisses in their direction.

Johnny sighs in response. “Okay, okay. Can you at least help me try to think of something? We just need to get them upstairs in one piece.”

Ten thinks. “Have you tried clucking at them?” At Johnny’s blank expression, Ten elaborates. “You know, like this - ” he says, then makes a loud, wet sound by sucking his tongue against his teeth. They both look up at the cats, who stare back at them, unblinking.

“Guess not,” Johnny muses. “But I like where your head’s at, using sounds is a good idea. Oh – how about this?” he whispers excitedly, unlocking his phone and pulling up YouTube. The flashlight beam swings wildly as he types. He holds out phone, and Ten squints at the title of the video he has pulled up: “Bird Sounds: Birds Chirping Sounds for Cats to Watch and Listen To.”

Ten hums, unconvinced. “I don’t know, Johnny. Won’t that just agitate them?” Johnny shrugs, already turning up the volume on his phone.

“It’s worth a shot. They might get curious and come down to investigate. Look, this video has almost two million views – it wouldn’t be that popular if cats didn’t like it, right?”

“I guess,” Ten mutters. Johnny scrolls to the middle of the video, presses play, and holds his phone up towards the cat pile, filling the basement with the sounds of chirping and flapping wings.

The effect is almost immediate.

One of the cats – the largest one, by the looks of it – hisses loudly and leaps down from the tower of boxes towards Johnny. Johnny makes a surprised noise and stumbles back into Ten. The other three cats immediately start yowling, arching their backs and hissing down at them. Ten backs away and looks on in abject horror as the massive tabby clings onto Johnny’s pant leg and starts clawing its way up, baring its gleaming fangs.

“Ah – what the hell!” Johnny cries, kicking his leg out to try to shake the cat off.

“Turn it off!” Ten shouts frantically. “The video, turn it off!”

“I’m trying!” Johnny responds, fumbling desperately as he tries to unlock his phone and keep the feral monster from scratching his crotch. Finally, he manages to close the video, dropping his phone into the dirt in the process. As soon as the video turns off, the cat stops, though it continues to cling onto Johnny’s upper thigh, sharp nails latched onto the fabric of his jeans.

Johnny is panting heavily, looking between the cat and Ten with a crazed expression. The phone flashlight is still on, and from its spot on the floor, illuminates the angles in Johnny’s face in a way that only makes his expression seem wilder.

Ten can’t help his reaction. It starts building deep in his gut and spills out of his mouth before he can stop it. He doubles over in laughter, clutching at his stomach as tears stream out of his eyes. “Your face,” he manages, between peals of laughter, “I’m sorry, but -” He can’t get the rest of the apology out, too consumed by the fit of giggles so strong it makes his whole body shake. He laughs until he can’t laugh anymore, just huffing out wheezing breaths and wiping his eyes.

Johnny stares at him in disbelief. Then, slowly, a wide smile grows across his face. “My face is that goofy, huh?” he says, then the smile slides away when the cat suddenly hisses up at him and leaps off his leg. The tabby sprints away into the dark room in the direction of the stairs. The other three cats leap off the box tower and scurry after their ringleader, disappearing into the darkness.

Ten and Johnny look at each other; then, perfectly in sync, they turn and dash after them. At the base of the stairs, just as Ten grabs the railing, Johnny skids to a stop.

“Wait, my phone!” he cries, then runs back towards the beam of light that illuminates the ceiling at the far end of the room. Ten watches as the light flashes then shuts off, and he hears the pounding of Johnny’s feet on the dirt floor before he sees him.

“Go, go!” Johnny shouts, grabbing Ten’s hand and hauling him up the stairs after him. Ten, still giggling slightly, lets himself be pulled, his hand dwarfed by Johnny’s massive paw.

They burst through the open door and Johnny spins around, breathing heavily. He tugs Ten down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out into the living room. There, on the hair-covered couch, are the three smaller cats – in the light of the room, Ten can see that they are all black, nearly identical save for the color of their collars – curled up in a quiet pile, innocently licking each other’s fur.

“Oh, thank god,” Johnny breathes out, dropping Ten’s hand as he makes his way to the couch. “These fucking rascals are going to take years off my life.” He sinks down onto the couch next to them and closes his eyes with a sigh. “This is how they’ve been the past few days. They’re usually super chill, I don’t know why they started acting crazy tonight, of all nights.”

As much as Ten wants to sink into the space beside Johnny, he looks around the room again. “Uh, Johnny – what about the other cat? The big one?” Johnny blinks open and looks at Ten.

“Ah, I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” he says, stretching out his arms with a yawn. He looks at his phone. “Jeez, it’s late. Hey, Ten, do you want to – ” But before he can finish his sentence, his eyes catch on something on the other side of the room, behind Ten.

“Ten,” Johnny says, sitting up and looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“Johnny?” Ten says, unsure of where this is going.

“You closed the door behind you when we came in, right? Like, really pulled it tight, until the lock clicked?”

_Uh oh._ Ten’s mind races back to approximately ten minutes ago, when he entered. He is sure he closed the door, but he can’t remember how tightly he closed it, too distracted by the disgusting interior of Taeyong’s house to notice if the _goddamn_ _lock clicked_ behind him or not. He turns around to follow Johnny’s gaze, only to find the front door swinging wide open on its hinges, swaying gently in the summer night breeze. He gulps.

“Sorry,” he squeaks out meekly, braving a look at Johnny. Johnny meets his eyes with a look of pure despair. “You don’t know that she got out …” he tries, as unconvinced of his own words as Johnny clearly is.

Johnny groans, then pulls himself off the couch. “I’ll get the tuna. You wait outside. She can’t have gotten too far.” Ten nods, feeling way more guilty than he is comfortable with, and walks through the open door into the night. He makes sure to pull the door shut behind him, and it takes a few hard tugs until he hears the telltale click of the lock. How was he supposed to know he had to pull it closed that tightly? Johnny should have told him. He grumbles half-heartedly to himself, then steps to the side when Johnny opens the door behind him and follows him out.

“I’m really, really, really sorry,” he says again, glancing nervously up at Johnny. Johnny sighs and meets his eyes.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault that Salmon de Beauvoir is out of her mind.”

Ten blinks. “Salmon … don’t you mean Simone?”

Johnny chuckles, then gestures at Ten to follow him as he starts walking down the front steps and through the yard. “No, I do not, unfortunately. All of Taeyong’s cats are named after famous feminists. With terrible cat puns.” He begins counting them off on his fingers. “Salmon de Beauvoir, that’s the big one. Then there’s bell claws.”

“bell hooks?” Ten guesses. Johnny nods sadly.

“Then Gloria Steinmew and Purrginia Wolff. Just terrible. They’re not even all girls.” He is smiling, though, and Ten feels some of his guilt dissipate into the warm night air. When they get to the sidewalk, Ten stops and looks around. Taeyong’s house is at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, which is surrounded by woods on three sides. Plenty of places for a cat to disappear, should it so desire.

“Where should we go first?” he asks, looking up at Johnny. Johnny places one hand on his hip (his other hand holds a plastic container full of loose tuna) and looks around. A warm breeze stirs up his hair, and Ten is hit with the sudden urge to run his fingers through it. Which would be a stupid thing to do … right?

At that moment, Johnny turns to him and catches him staring. Ten, blushing, looks away and starts peering intently at a very interesting bush at the edge of the yard. “Let’s just start walking,” he mutters, setting off down the sidewalk. “The longer we stand here, the farther away the cat will get.”

He sneaks a glance over his shoulder, only to find Johnny standing in the same spot staring at him with a strange expression. “What?” he calls out, suddenly nervous, for some reason.

After a moment, Johnny cracks a wide grin and follows him. “Nothing.”

As they walk side-by-side down the dark, empty street, Johnny peels the lid off the tuna container and shakes it around while Ten continues making his clucking sounds to try to lure Salmon towards them.

The clouds drift away from the moon, illuminating the street in a cool, white glow, so bright that it casts their shadows in front of them. As they walk, Ten stares at the long, stretched-out legs of Johnny’s shadow, which dwarfs his own.

Ten stops when he hears a rustling in the trees beside the road, but it turns out to be nothing more than a chipmunk, so they keep going. He instinctively drifts closer to Johnny as they walk, so close that their arms keep bumping together. Johnny doesn’t pull away, though, so Ten keeps accidentally-on-purpose letting the backs of their hands brush together. Johnny’s skin is warm and smooth, and it tingles where they touch.

He gets a flash of a memory – him and Johnny, walking to school in snowstorm. They must have been in seventh grade. Ten was tiny back then, and although Johnny had always been tall, he had gone through a growth spurt the summer before and was easily two heads taller than Ten. The strong winds kept buffeting Ten backwards nearly off his feet, and Johnny had held onto his hand the entire way to make sure he didn’t fall over. When they arrived at school still holding hands, a few little shithead boys in their class had started teasing them. Seeing the tears starting to well in Johnny’s eyes, Ten had kicked the largest one in the shin, and that was the end of that (well, the end of the teasing; the kick got him sent to the principal’s office, but it had been completely worth it for the way Johnny looked at him).

Ten wonders what would happen if he tried holding Johnny’s hand now. Platonically, of course. As one does. But before he can seriously consider it, a loud mewling sound comes from somewhere deep in the woods off to their left. He and Johnny exchange a look.

“I guess that’s her?” Ten says, eyeing the woods dubiously. Even in the bright moonlight, the forest seems dark and endless, the trees swaying and whispering ominously as the breeze blows through them.

“Guess so,” Johnny agrees. “Come on.”

Then, like he had been reading Ten’s mind, Johnny takes his hand. Ten’s heart jumps into his throat, feeling Johnny’s heart beating in his palm. It is different from when Johnny had grabbed his hand on the stairwell earlier; that had been urgent, Johnny making sure Ten kept up with him. This time … Johnny’s pressure on his palm, it feels reassuring. Comforting. Similar, in a way, to that day in the snowstorm.

Ten follows after Johnny, trying (in vain) to will the sweat back into the pores on his palm. As both of Johnny’s hands are full, Ten pulls out his own phone and switches on the flashlight to light their way. He trains it on the ground as they step carefully over logs and dark piles of leaves, while Johnny tries to dodge low-hanging tree branches.

Crickets and unseen night creatures chirp and scurry around them. Ten is grateful for Johnny’s strong presence next to him, as it eases some of the crawling sensation he usually feels in the dark. They make their careful way deeper into the woods, following the mewling noises, which start to sound wet, high-pitched, and weak. Although he tries not to, Ten can’t help but picture Salmon de Beauvoir splayed out on the forest floor, gasping for life as she bleeds out from any number of predator bites. He knows there are bobcats and coyotes in these woods; his own cat suffered the same fate not three years prior. The image is still seared into his brain.

The mewling sounds get louder, squeakier even, and Ten frowns. He pulls on Johnny’s hand to get him to stop. “Johnny, doesn’t that sound weird to you?”

Johnny looks down at him. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know, that just doesn’t really sound like Salmon. It doesn’t sound like one animal to me. I think I hear - ” he stops and strains his ears. “Two or three different animals. Maybe more.” Johnny cocks his head and listens intently. His eyes widen and he nods slowly.

“You could be right. But it’s our best lead so far – maybe she found some cat friends in the woods,” Johnny suggests.

“Maybe,” Ten says, unsure. He lets Johnny tug him forward again, towards the source of the noise.

They step between two large pine trees into a clearing, where the moon shines bright, illuminating a small circle of grass in a silvery glow.

Beside him, Johnny gasps, and Ten’s heart drops into his stomach.

_Oh no …_ his worst thoughts had been right. In the center of the clearing, the body of a large tabby lays stretched out on the grass. Dark shapes spill from her stomach – her intestines, still throbbing and pulsing with the lifeblood that courses through the poor creature, slick and shiny with black blood. Her intestines wiggle, then one of them mewls. Wait.

“Oh my god,” Johnny breathes. He pulls Ten by the hand towards the cat, then sinks down to his knees.

Ten’s mind takes a full minute to reconcile the cognitive dissonance caused by the sight in front of him. Salmon isn’t dead. Those aren’t her intestines. Those are her … those are her …

“Kittens!” Ten squeals, looking up at Johnny with eyes wide in disbelief. “Kittens!” he says again, not fully believing the word even as he says it. Johnny throws his head back in a laugh, and the sound is light and beautiful. 

Ten sputters. “She – she was pregnant! That’s why she was acting crazy.” Johnny turns in amazement to watch the tiny kittens, which are still slick with whatever juices are inside of a cat’s womb. They squeak and mewl, crawling weakly over each other to mouth at Salmon’s nipples with bumbling, uncoordinated movements.

Ten’s mind still spins as the pieces fall into place. “In the basement – she must have been looking for a quiet birthing spot. And we just – ”

“Fucked her right off,” Johnny finishes with a soft laugh, as he continues to gaze down at the wiggling animals. There are three in total: two jet black and one tabby, like its mother. Also like its mother, the tiny tabby seems to be the strongest of the bunch, as it noses one of the black kittens out of the way to latch onto the juiciest teat.

They sit and watch the kittens for a long while. Salmon de Beauvoir seems content to let her litter clamber over her; with her limbs stretched out and her eyes closed, she is the picture of leisure. Eventually, the babies tire themselves out, curling up in a little fuzzy pile against Salmon’s stomach. She blinks her eyes open, flicks her tail, and looks up at Ten and Johnny expectantly.

“I wonder how she got pregnant,” Johnny muses, breaking their silence. Ten glances at him. “According to Taeyong, all the male cats are neutered – that’s Gloria and Purrginia – and none of the cats are ever allowed out of the house.”

“Maybe she’s been sneaking out to meet a secret boyfriend,” Ten says. “Horny cats are much wilier than we give them credit for.”

Johnny laughs and nods thoughtfully. “You may be right. It’s just weird that Taeyong didn’t know she was pregnant. Or maybe he did know, but he didn’t bother telling me.”

“Probably the latter,” Ten says.

“Anyway, we can’t let them stay out here all night. It’s too exposed, we have to get them home somehow.” He rests his chin on his hands to think.

“We just can’t touch them, I’m pretty sure,” Ten says, remembering something he read on the internet one time. “I don’t think that anyone but their mother is supposed to touch them until they’re a bit older. You know, because of imprinting. Maybe we can carry them in something?”

Johnny looks around. “In what, though? There aren’t any cardboard boxes just lying around in the middle of the woods.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, a blanket or something. A shirt.”

Johnny’s eyes light up. “Oh, good idea!” He stands and moves to begin peeling off his t-shirt.

“Johnny, stop!” Ten says as he pulls down the hem of Johnny’s shirt, gazing sadly at the strip of muscled stomach that gets covered up again. “Don’t be stupid, I have this.” He shrugs his thin flannel off his shoulders and holds it out.

Johnny laughs sheepishly. “Oh, ha, yeah. That’s probably better.”

Ten shifts forward on his knees towards Salmon and her sleeping kittens. She stares at them, unblinking, but doesn’t move when he reaches out a hand towards her. Beside him, Johnny makes reassuring shushing sounds, whispering placatingly to the cat under his breath.

Carefully, slowly, tenderly, Ten wraps his hand in the sleeve of the flannel and rests it on one of the black kittens. It stirs, but doesn’t wake, evidently too milk-drunk to care about the giant human trying to separate it from its mother. Surprisingly, Salmon doesn’t react beyond a flicker of her tail. Ten carefully cradles the kitten in his clothed hand and rests it on the flat body of the shirt. He does the same with the other two. In his hand – even through the fabric of the shirt – they feel fragile and warm, their tiny hearts beating rapidly through their delicate bodies.

He wraps the small pile in the shirt and lifts it to his chest, cradling them in his arms. He meets Johnny’s eyes, who is looking at him in wonderment. “I knew I called the right person,” Johnny says, his voice low. Ten dips his head to hide his flush.

“Alright, now see if you can lift Salmon,” Ten whispers, nodding towards the still-reclining cat. “Her nipples are probably sensitive, though, so be careful.” Johnny nods, then bends down towards her. He runs a tentative finger over her head, and when she leans up into the touch, he smiles back at Ten in relief. Then, he scoops her up in his arms and stands, careful to make sure her pink, still-swollen stomach is facing out.

The moon is bright enough that they don’t need Ten’s flashlight on the way back. They walk slowly back out of the woods, barely talking other than for a few whispered comments, careful not to disturb the sensitive ears of the sleeping kittens.

It must be nearly four in the morning, but Ten doesn’t feel tired at all. He does feel like he is dreaming, however, as he walks down the middle of the deserted road with a bundle of newborn kittens in his arms and Johnny Suh next to him.

Back at Taeyong’s house, having made sure that the front door is for sure, one hundred percent locked, Ten continues cradling the kittens until Johnny has finished building a makeshift nest out of blankets in a small alcove in the living room. He sets them down gently, then moves aside for Salmon to crawl behind them and pull them towards her. The kittens sleep-crawl into the soft curve of her stomach.

“Your shirt,” Johnny says, pointing to where Ten’s flannel is trapped under the bodies of the cat family.

“It’s alright,” Ten says. “It’s just a shirt. It looks better on them, anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Johnny says, and his tone makes Ten’s stomach flip.

Johnny breaks eye contact to glance at the Kit-Cat Klock on the wall. “Wow, it’s late. I should probably drive you home now, you must hate me for making you stay up so late. Or …” he trails off.

“Or?” Ten prompts, though he has a guess where this is going.

“Or … since you’re already here, you can stay over. If you want.” Are Johnny’s ears red, or is Ten seeing things? 

He smiles shyly up at Johnny, certain that his own ears must be red as well. “It would be kind of a hassle for you to drive me all the way home. And besides, I wouldn’t want you to leave the animals unattended again.”

“So that’s a yes?” Johnny says, his voice carefully nonchalant.

“That’s a yes,” Ten agrees.

* * *

Taeyong comes home the next day to find a squirming litter of newborn kittens in his living room. He also finds Ten and Johnny snoring loudly in his bed (fully clothed, thank heavens – Ten isn’t that easy), with Ten curled up against Johnny’s chest and Johnny’s arms wrapped around Ten’s small body. 

Although Ten would normally feel embarrassed about having been caught in such a compromising position, all he feels is a warmth that buzzes through his chest and refuses to leave, even long after Johnny drops him off at home with a shy kiss on the cheek.

All in all, there are certainly worse ways to spend a Sunday. 


End file.
